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lightlycareless · 9 months ago

Note

hiii i rly love how you portray naoya and i really like how you got naoya's character on point like...... HOW

but like im imagining this headcanon wherein y/n and naoya are lovers and naoya brought up the topic of having an "open relationship" and naoya ends up getting no bitches/loses them in the process and y/n ends up getting approached by men who naoya respects a lot or someone he really looks up to and naoya becomes jealous and very insecure even though he was the one who wanted to open the relationship (reminds me of what you wrote about naoya's jealousy towards nanami)

Hello anon!

Awww, thank you so much ❤️❤️ I spent a lot of time thinking how to make Naoya as realistically possible, how to redeem him and such, which was difficult, but satisfying at the same time.

Yet, something a-hole behaviors of him would remain, lol it has to, or it wouldn't be him, you know???

And the open relationship thing is soooo in character for him. Ugh that man, seriously... As much as I want to deny it, I feel like he would bring it up (but in a universe he isn't like completely devoted to you, like he has yet to realize just how much you mean to him—all paths point to the same destination, it's just... how he gets there that matters lol)

Anyways, here are the warnings of this oneshot 😏: y/n has a harem essentially. gojo, suguru, nanami, and an extra one I've been dying to write. :)))) mentions of infidelity, naoya is a bastard. and a sprinkle of smut. fluff, and angst.

Without any further a do, happy reading!!

When the idea of an open relationship is suggested… the first of many fractures unwittingly struck your relationship.

First by shattering the image you had of him.

Sure, your feelings for Naoya remained, which is what made this ordeal far more painful…

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t harbor other emotions, such as anger.

“—just before we finally settle.” Is the lousy excuse he gives you when confronted, another stab to your heart. “Get it out of the system, you know?”

No. You don’t know, because for the past few years, Naoya is the only man you’ve had eyes for, to the point of imagining a future with him—and solely him.

It hurts to even consider he hasn’t been doing the same, probably already interested in some other woman, the reason behind his suggestion in the first place.

“I don’t want to…” you murmur, doing your best to not leave the table, or at least not shed a tear.

“It’ll only be a short time.” Naoya insists. “This way, we can know if we’re truly meant for each other. See if we don’t feel the same with others, hm?”

It’s stupid.

It really is—

Naoya’s suggestion… and your devotion to make him happy.

Because even after all the dumb things he said to justify the unjustifiable, you still wanted to please him.

“I guess we could go through restrictions or something, not that I have an—”

“No sex.” The rapid way in which you reply is something Naoya can’t help but find adorable, interpreting your eagerness as jealousy, overprotectiveness… before brushing it off as silly.

“Y/N—my love, you’re not seriously thinking we can reach a conclusion without that now, can we?”

Truth to be told, you didn’t want to find out. Not through this way at least, by laying in the arms of another…

Thus, could he really blame you for trying to fight it?

“Besides, don’t you want to try it out too?” Naoya smirks. “I’m fine with it, really. It’s a two-way street, after all. What’s good in me having all the fun?”

What hurts more?

That fact that Naoya wanted to pursue other women with your permission?

Or that he was pushing you onto other men, appearing careless to whatever you did or didn’t do with them?

It’s not that Naoya doesn’t care—far from that, really. He doesn’t like when men do as little as glance in your direction.

But he doesn’t worry because he knows there’s nothing to worry about.

Trusting that his hopelessly-in-love girlfriend would never betray him like that. Aware that your attention and devotion has been on him the moment you took him into your heart—and that no matter what, you’ll always come back to him.

It’s why he suggested the idea in the first place, because he’s long acknowledged that even past your limits, you still tolerate him.

Thus, unsurprised that you agreed to this change—Naoya leaving the apartment soon after that.

Looks like you were right in assuming he already had someone in mind to debut this new arrangement; willing to bet anything to prove he’s already on his way to her.

…Well, you hope that Naoya at least respects the only condition both agreed on: to not bring any partners to the apartment.

Not that you’d be there to see much of it anyways, opting to stay in your friend’s—Shoko— apartment for the time being.

“Can’t say I didn’t think him capable of doing something like that—but I guess I never thought he’d actually do it, not after dating you as long as he did.” She’d say, before taking a deep huff of her cigarette and exhaling.

You always found it endearing how she’d release the smoke to the side, as if it didn’t permeate the air around you… but at least Shoko cares enough to try. Not sure if you think the same of Naoya anymore…

“So much for having faith on him…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, offended yet intrigued by her implications.

“I mean, you knew of the rumors before dating him, Y/N.” Shoko adds, you sigh. That, you did. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”

“I guess I was hoping they weren’t real, either.” You slowly admit. “…What am I going to do, Shoko?”

A breakup isn’t exactly what you had in mind, certainly not what you wanted to do….

But why do that now when you could take advantage of this exploitable opportunity? An opening all too obvious to Shoko, which she doesn’t hesitate to let you know.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” She suddenly suggests. “He told you, didn’t he? That you were good to be with other men.”

“But I don’t want to.” You shake your head. “I don’t—I don’t think I can.”

“It’s exactly the same, just another face if that’s what you’re wondering.” Shoko explains, but to you, it was much deeper than that, always has been, for an emotional personal like you.

It’s why she was so angry that your beloved boyfriend was quick to disregard your feelings.

“Ok, sure, let’s say I agree.” You play along. “How do I even start? It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene—I don’t even know if I’m still… desirable.”

Oh, if you only knew some were dying for this moment.

The first to approach you, and shockingly no less than a day after, was Gojo.

It was through an unexpected text, making you surprised he still had your number after all that time—or at all, considering you didn’t really text anyone outside of your family, close friends, and… Naoya.

Satoru once belonged to your social circle, but due to unknown reasons of his own, most likely to do with Suguru, he strayed.

Either way, you responded as amicably expected.

S: [Are you doing anything tonight?]

Y: [No… why?]

S: [Let’s get something to eat 😋]

Y: [Did you text the wrong person?]

S: [Wait, is this not Y/N’s number?]

Y: [It is…]

S: [Then I’ll pick you up later at Shoko’s apartment, 7 alright for you?]

Y: [Wait, how do you even know where I’m staying?]

S: [It’s a date, then! See you soon!]

It was good to see that Satoru remained as… well, pushy as ever. Not that you were glad to have been pulled into this outing without further precedent, but you eventually succumbed to the flow, and soon, you were in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city, sitting at a table Satoru had gotten through a reservation (difficult to do so given the status of the establishment, guess he can do anything that he sets his mind to), while chatting the evening away with just about anything that crossed his mind.

Regardless of how… oddly this situation came to be, you still found enjoyment in catching up with an old friend of yours. It had been so long since anyone had seen him, many even thought he had left the country all together.

Not that you had a way to know, since your connections were already limited thanks to Naoya—One of the many things you’ve had to sacrifice in to keep your attention solely on him.

…

Was your relationship with him always this consuming?

Well, you had lots of catch up with Satoru either way—it almost felt like you were getting to know him all over again! Happy to see that he essentially remained the same (somewhat irritating) goofball he always was.

But unfortunately, just as the good remained, the bad also prevailed, which you’d be reminded of when going for a walk around the city, just a few blocks down the main road when both were approached by a group of women, who upon catching sight of him and his undeniable attractiveness, knew they needed his attention.

That’s the thing with Satoru. Raised as the heir of a highly prestigious company, he just never got enough of it. Always wanting more and more, and not afraid to do whatever necessary to get it, careless if it was to the detriment of others.

Thus, you assumed it wouldn’t take long before he completely ignored you in favor of them, leaving you behind.

When talking about him, you normally wouldn’t care if he left you or not. He was just another friend, long accustomed to his ways. It was just… never like that.

But after all that happened with Naoya, it’s like your still-healing wound reopened, pain sharper when slowly reminded that even with a friend, you weren’t good enough to retain their attention, less their care…

Well, at least it was a good distraction, and you got to see Satoru again. You wonder how much would a taxi cost to take—

“Seriously, couldn’t you be any denser?? I’m on a date here!”

As if you’d been showered with a bucketful of ice-cold water, you freeze, blinking while slowly turning to see him and his angered face.

Did you… Did you hear him right?

“Get lost.” Satoru doesn’t even bother letting them respond before his hand is already on your back, gently pushing you forward and away from the group, leaving behind both the distraught, slightly spiteful women…

And your erroneous preconceptions.

As he goes back to the previous conversation you two were having, acting as if nothing happened, even suggesting getting something sweet to serve as dessert —your choice, he’d tease— all the self-doubt you felt for his actions immediately evaporates.

It was simple, more likely unintentional, but his gesture in defending your importance, highlighting the fact he wanted to be with you, against how he usually behaved…

Made you feel special, realizing that perhaps it wasn’t that hard to be somewhat of a decent person.

Yet, your feelings…

“It was a nice night out.” Satoru would say once parked outside Shoko’s apartment complex, signifying the end of your unexpected yet pleasurable evening with him.

“Yeah, it was… nice.”

“I hope we can do this again.” But you don’t keep your hopes up, not when your feelings for Naoya were still there, prickling at the back of your mind, inundating you with a sense of wrongfulness, for you were never one to offer the other cheek, regardless of what your estranged boyfriend was or wasn’t doing.

Unless Gojo were to do something to make you… well, not change your mind, but rattle your beliefs, if only for a moment, when he ruffled the top of your head, giving you a smile, before softly kissing your forehead.

Alongside the reminder that…

“You’re too pretty to be upset about someone like him.”

Albeit archaic, his words convinced you that perhaps… you could do with another day like this.

The second to approach you, yet again to much of your surprise, is Geto. Just a few days after Satoru did. Although his invitation was much more… palpable.

In other words, you were getting lunch with Shoko when he made his “sudden” appearance, joining the two for a bite, before driving both back to her apartment, only voicing his intentions when she was out the car, leaving you alone.

Although sweet, wholeheartedly intending to spend time with you, you could still that some of it lingered the realms of an unspoken competition between him and Satoru—which you didn’t know whether to be flattered by, or worried…

“—and let me guess. He spent the whole evening talking about himself.”

Somewhat, not that you cared to justify, really, for you were far more enthralled in learning all that he’s been up to since he left.

But it was the truth either way.

Geto sighs.

“We’ll do something better.” And so, is how the date begins, by first taking you to the mall, window shopping through essentially every store that crossed your path, while catching up with him—he too had disappeared for a while, motives unclear, although the common theory was that he had a nasty falling out with Gojo. But now it seems they’re on good terms given the way he occasionally mentioned him throughout the conversation.

Beyond that, you assumed Geto also took this visit as a good opportunity to go through some pending errands, maybe get something for himself as well—or… for someone else.

The things he was looking at were quite eye-catching, after all, very gift appropriate.

Regardless of who it was intended to, you were right to assume they were special to him if he was considering buying a diamond necklace…

But yet again, that’s what you believed—reality was simply much different.

Or obvious.

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to try it on— I know it’ll look beautiful on you.” He’d say that, genuinely, with just about anything he deemed suitably for you, ranging from jewelry to clothes…

With your face flaring every single time.

“Oh—I—I don’t—” you stammer, struggling whether to decline his offer because this is all too luxurious for your taste…

Or because you were still processing the words that made you blush in the first place… alongside the fact that at one point, his hand had reached for yours without even noticing, intertwining his fingers with yours and staying that way while the two continued to walk around the mall.

Just… why did Satoru and Suguru decided to appear out of the nowhere?

“No, thank you.” Is what you eventually manage to say. If he’s noticed your nerves, he doesn’t say, instead, he simply gives your hand a soft squeeze, followed by another equally charming smile. “I don’t feel like trying out things either way.”

“Don’t worry about it, then. Perhaps another time.”

At his promise, you can’t hold back your skin from growing increasingly hotter, doing your best to instead focus on the movie the two agreed to watch, with little to no success, of course, considering Geto also took this opportunity to unconsciously drape his arm over your shoulders and move you closer.

While stereotypical, it still manages to fluster, and that’s how you’d remain for the rest of the date: even when getting something to eat, or when it was time to take you back to Shoko’s apartment once late enough.

But on the way back to the parking lot, you’re able to snap out of this trance when something catches your attention, just by the corner of your eye, effectively stopping you on your tracks.

Something simple, like a minimal black halter dress… unintentionally the same model you’ve wanting to try since forever, but never daring to do so, believing that your body was unbefitting of such style—and quickly, you moved on.

Your gaze didn’t linger much on it beyond a few mere seconds, certainly not for Suguru to notice, or so you considered…

But when the next day comes, a package is suddenly delivered at Shoko’s apartment, with your name on it, that by various personal reasons you open with great anticipation, growing distraught when seeing it had to do nothing with what you projected—

Quickly flustered upon realizing that the sender was Suguru all along, demonstrating his attentiveness by gifting you the same dress you saw last night, as well as his intentions of seeking something more with you.

“I enjoyed our time together. I wish to see you again—hopefully with this dress.”

You didn’t think you were too obvious when it came to your reaction, but at Shoko’s mention, you finally acknowledge you’ve been smiling, heart loudly pounding against your chest as you lovingly held the dress, moved by his gesture…

For when was the last time someone had gifted you something to your liking, without having to beg for it? Without having to justify why you wanted it?

…

Had it really been that long?

Just what else was missing in your relationship with Naoya…?

Or perhaps, not wanting to face?

…

Your feelings, to begin with.

Because as attentive and caring Satoru and Suguru had been, neither were courageous enough to acknowledge the situation that put you in their reach in the first place, opting to instead reap the benefits, but ignore the rest.

It wasn’t malicious, not at all. It’s been stated by now that they truly cared for you, always checking in on you whenever possible.

It’s just that… they didn’t feel comfortable doing so yet, believing they were far from appropriate, or close enough, to do so.

Judging by those characteristics, the only one worthy enough, and the one that would end up confronting you for that matter, was Nanami, who wanted to see you as soon as he found out the horrible situation Naoya had forced you to but struggled to do so thanks to his strenuous new job.

But once he was free, the first thing he did was call you, eventually meeting in Shoko’s apartment (she was gone for the day, for privacy matters, how convenient) and thus, everything else unfolded.

“Why are you even dating Naoya if he’s hurting you so much?”

“I—I don’t think that’s for you to discuss.” You objected, going through a roller coaster of emotions, a combination of unwillingness to speak of the matter, and fear of admitting the truth.

To talk about something like this was never an easy matter, more so when the situation was already deep in hot water…

Yet, his assertive nature didn’t come as a surprise to you anymore, nor permitted you to avoid it.

Nanami had always been this way, the one willing to speak about difficult things, rip the bandage, careless if you were prepared for it or not.

And let everything that is meant to happen, happen.

“My relationship is something only I should speak about! And when I feel ready for it…”

“Not when I see how much it’s hurting you.” He rebutted. “When was the last time you were genuinely happy at his side? Or where you didn’t have to sacrifice your personal life just to keep him happy?”

It’s obvious what he’s referring to—Nanami is another one of your friends you’ve lost contact with due to Naoya’s… jealousy. But different from Satoru and Suguru, he cared too much to just let you go, consistently reaching out to you whenever possible—even when you never answered.

“You don’t know what we agreed on—”

“I don’t think that losing your friends was part of that.”

“You don’t know him, you don’t know Naoya at all!’

“And you do?” Nanami counters, breath hitching at your throat, upset by his abruptness. “You once said Naoya was crude, but he’d never do anything to willingly hurt you—and yet, here you are, in an open relationship you clearly didn’t want.”

“Kento—that’s—” your voice trembles, his words too close for comfort. “That’s not—"

“Then why? Why do you keep tolerating him?” Nanami frowns. “Do you hate yourself that much?”

“What? No!” You shake your head, aghast by his accusation. “That’s not it, at all!”

“Then what is it, Y/N? What could possibly entail sticking around with a man that has done nothing but hurt you?”

“Stop it…”

“Seeing other women while still being with you? Is that your idea of a good relationship?”

“Kento, please—”

“It’s never my intention to offend you, but I can’t help believing you’re growing desperate—seeking for something you can’t have with him! So why? Why do you try so hard to make it work, when he clearly doesn’t deserve—"

“Because I don’t want to be alone, ok?!” You eventually shriek, tears in your eyes as his words stung your heart too deeply, too much to handle in silence anymore. “It’s just as simple as that!”

Nanami’s eyes widen, taken aback by your unexpected outburst and confession, yet, as surprised as he was, if not bothered, he was also very, greatly hurt by its meaning.

Your words unknowingly disregarding everyone else that had ever been there for you.

And such, he cannot believe it. He doesn’t—not when he’s been there all along.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Nanami insists. “What is the truth? Is he forcing you to this??”

“No, Kento, he’s not!” you objected. “I truly want to be with him, because he’s the only one that has ever wanted to be with me.”

“You know very well that’s not true.”

“Seems like our perspectives vary greatly.” You frown. “I remember attempts of trying to get close to people, only to be pushed to the side when someone better came along. Person after person, they all just… ignored me; either because I was overshadowed by my family, or because I was too mundane to compete with others.

Until… Naoya came along. He was the only one that saw me for who I was. Even though it was mostly because I fit the mold he wanted.

But even then… I was happy to play along, because it meant that for the first time in my life, I meant someone to something.”

“That’s what you think? That you didn’t mean anything to no one else?”

“It’s not what I think—It’s what I know.” You sniffle, doing your best to hold back the tears pooling in your eyes from falling. “…Even now I know I’m only relevant because I’m Naoya’s girlfriend… but once that’s gone, I’m sure no one will look my way—"

“That’s not true.” He swiftly interjects.

“…And how would you know that? How would you know that this time, fate wouldn’t be cruel to me, like it has always been?!”

“Because there is someone that cares for you.”

“Let me guess, my parents.”

“No—I didn’t mean them.” Nanami frowns.

“Then who—” you breathe. “Who are you referring to??”

And suddenly, thanks to his softening eyes and growing silence… something clicks in your mind and all makes sense.

His anger, his protectiveness, his insistence…

There was a reason behind them all, only now does it become clear to you.

“…Why didn’t you say anything?” you softly ask, heart sinking when looking back at the dismissive way you treated him, always standing by your side, and yet…

“Because you seemed happy with Naoya.” Nanami adds. “Perhaps I was at fault too, for not having spoken of my feelings before, but… after seeing the way you smiled with him, I supposed it was for the best if I instead, supported you as a friend.

But because I’m your friend, I can’t allow you to go on thinking no one has ever cared for you. That no one has loved you for who you are… or will never do.

And most importantly, remind you that this—this isn’t what happiness looks like.”

At his open declaration, you couldn’t stop the wave of overwhelming emotions from washing over you, a combination of shock, sadness, and perhaps… longing, wondering what would’ve happened if you knew of his feelings back then.

Would you have accepted them? Or would everything continue as it does now?

Well, one thing is for sure—Nanami would’ve never suggested something like this; the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind!

But it’s too late now. You’ve made your decision and now, you were suffering the consequences…

However, you didn’t have to be alone anymore—and Nanami would reassure you of such by the following words, the same one’s he wished to have told you back then… and possibly save you from all this pain.

“I love you, Y/N. I always did, and I’ll always do. Even if we never see each other again—you’ll always remain in my heart.”

Because he would rather die than to make decisions that hurt you.

Leading you to unwittingly discover what it was to feel loved, for the first time in your life.

A heartwarming sensation, with no strings attached, just… someone that wishes your well-being above everything else, alongside your happiness, and nothing more.

And such, something grows inside you, something that pushes you to be closer to him, far beyond this day—

Coincidentally, he’s also the first one you kiss.

After Nanami’s visit, your days would slowly become brighter, although the grey cloud of Naoya’s seeming infidelity still lingered in the background.

But even then, your mind didn’t dwell on him for long, difficult to do so thanks to Satoru’s, Suguru’s, and now, Nanami’s interventions, as well as Shoko’s advice of enjoying the best of your new status.

The men involved didn’t seem to mind… too much.

Sure, their jealousy would sometimes rise to the occasion (from one person in specific) but as long as you continued to be attentive with them, they were willing to “share”, believing it was only a matter of time before you left that jerk-of-a boyfriend of yours once and for all, settling for on them instead.

Long story short, everything seemed to go on peacefully with your new routine…

Until the sudden appearance of a man you never expected to see, less set his eyes on you, since the only time you’ve seen him was that one instance you became acquainted with him thanks to Naoya’s business, never to speak again, disrupted all you held true.

While you might’ve seen this moment as expendable, forgettable even, to him, it was the fated day he knew he must have you—a growing desire to make you his when the time was right.

Naoya’s stupidity opening that door.

Sukuna was the owner of a rival company, a fierce competitor that always made the Zen’in uneasy whenever mentioned, constantly keeping them on their toes—because with a man as belligerent as him, to let their guard down, if just for the slightest, meant the complete loss of all they’ve worked for.

It’s safe to say that Sukuna had garnered the reputation of being aggressively intimidating, thus it was only right to assume that his approach would be of the same nature.

“I—I can’t” is what little you manage to muster through the fear constricting your throat; you still remember the eeriness you felt when meeting him that one time, never believing it could worsen… until you had him just a few feet away.

“I wasn’t asking.” He responds, the tone in his voice not only highlights his sincerity, but also warns you there won’t be a second chance.

Urging you to do what’s best for you, less…

Perhaps out of fear of experiencing his anger, some kind of retribution, or because deep inside, past your worry and hesitation, you were genuinely intrigued to know what a man like him might’ve found interesting in you… you accept.

Because after all was said and done, he was far different to what you were normally accustomed to…

As well as to willing to bargain for.

You don’t know what it was—maybe it was your blinding intrigue, your desire to taste something way beyond your reach… or because you took Shoko’s words a bit too literally, even though with him, she insisted you to be careful…

You ended up following Sukuna into his apartment; And not only that, but you also let him show you what true desire meant, in more ways than one, sure to never forget.

“Su—Sukuna—!” you’d breathe, whatever little you could muster through the tightening of your chest and the fuzziness of your mind, harshly gripping his arms, as he pushes you over the edge and into your release for what seemed to be the nth time that night. “Sukuna, please—I need—I need a break—”

“No—you will take it!” he groans, holding your waist and keeping you in place as his cock deep into your core, each time harsher than the last one, bruising that spot that always made you see stars over and over again; unexpectedly, a place that Naoya was all too ignorant of, Sukuna being amongst the few, if not the only, to achieve such feat.

No wonder you were reacting the way you were, losing yourself in pleasure, because just as he teased…

“This is the first time you’ve ever been with a real man, isn’t it?” He laughs when feeling you quiver against his hold, feeble against the sensations he’s relentlessly giving you, finding your numbing reaction, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth agape, and toes curling… to be quite adorable.

Doing all in his power to get more of this reaction—hopefully, beyond this night too.

“They simply don’t make the cut! —But how could they? With a cunt as lewd as yours, one isn’t enough!”

Sukuna doesn’t find satisfaction in seeing you with other men, less when you’re still “taken”.

But ever the one to seek advantage, even in the most uneven of fields, Sukuna was quick to see the endless possibility this opportunity provided—more than ready to exploit them…

“Don’t—don’t say that!” you’d moan, with such an exciting cry, Sukuna just couldn’t help prolonging this night. “That’s not—that’s not tru—ah!”

And keep you all for himself.

“I don’t want you staying at that hideous apartment anymore.” Sukuna would mutter the moment you opened your eyes; having fallen asleep soon after the strenuous ordeal, and suffering from its aftermath as soon as conscious.

“It’s not… nasty.” You groan, slowly blinking as you look back at him, doing your best to push yourself up from the bed, only to fall back down when resulting too weak to do so. However, even when dealing with the sharp pains across your body alongside unbearable drowsiness, you’re capable enough to defend Shoko. “…It’s a nice place.”

He chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Sukuna then reaches over to the nearby bedside table, sliding the first drawer open and taking out a pair of keys which he’d give over to you soon after.

You look at it perplexedly, confused as to their meaning… before growing shocked, slumber completely gone from your body when listening the following statement.

“From now on, you’re staying in my apartment.”

“Wh—what?” First that, and now, this? Sukuna meant no joke when it came to you. “No, I can’t accept this!”

“You sure love making me repeat myself, woman.” He scoffs. “It’s not a matter of whether you can or cannot—you will.”

It’s an amazing talent of Sukuna to always sound threatening even when dealing with the most ordinary of things, but either way, you’re not interested in testing how far his limits went, and thus, (not that you had any other option) you accept the keys while silently wondering what the future holds for you by making this decision…

“Uraume will help you move your things. I better see you here when I come back after work—less you wish to be punished again.” He smirks, fingers sliding along your skin before pulling you close to him once more, a whine escaping your lips as you realize what is to transpire next yet again.

Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

…

As well as what Naoya’s been up to, for the day Sukuna allowed you to, you decide to go back to your shared apartment to pick up a few things to take with… him, now that you’re essentially living together.

It was a very awkward arrangement, if you thought about it, one that Shoko was strictly opposed to, but… well, you would be lying if you didn’t admit you were having a good time (outside of the painful pleasures he pushed you through every night) for a plethora of luxurious reasons. Far nicer than what you were used to seeing with Naoya.

Which you could openly enjoy due to Sukuna’s absence, rarely getting to see him due to work commitments, Uraume representing him instead… not that it was any better, for they were just as awkward as awkward can get.

And yet, not as much as what happened when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with Naoya, welcomed by the one person you did not expect to see there, believing him to be completely enraptured in his new freedom, given the silence he always responded with whenever you texted or called him.

“Naoya?” You asked, although confused, you were more… shocked to see his distraught appearance, almost as if he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few days—or at all.

“What are you doing here?” you add. “I thought… well, I thought you’d be… somewhere else.”

“I can say the same thing about you.” He frowns. “Is it true that you’re staying with that woman?”

“Her name is Shoko…” you murmur; even when away, Naoya remains…

Either way, given his attention on her, it seems like he doesn’t know about Sukuna, yet.

Or Gojo.

Or Geto.

Or Nanami.

Because if he did, it would’ve been the first thing he mentioned; his jealous nature never one to take as a jest.

Unless…

“But yes, I am staying with her.” You confirm. “What about… you? Where have you been staying?”

… and still, you can’t help but worry for him.

“Here.” He confesses, you blink.

“…Really?” Even when skepticism is evident in your voice, he doesn’t not say anything else. Instead…

“Yes. And… it’s time for you to come back home.”

“Why? What happened?” you fret, naturally fearing the worst…

Which you were right in assuming, just that… it wouldn’t be what you expected.

“You—you had enough fun.” Naoya unwittingly stammers, a scowl on his face, or was it sorrow? As he continued. “It’s time for you to remember you’re mine and come back home.”

“Enough… fun?” You slowly repeat, invertedly hurt by his words, as if he weren’t the one that set up this situation in the first place, yet, still overwhelmingly confused as to what he meant.

Suspicion that perhaps he did know about your flings after all begins to settle in your mind, but it isn’t until his following words that it finally takes roots.

“Don’t hide it, Y/N—I know you’ve seen others. And quite frequently too!”

“You’re… you’re doing the same thing.” You immediately respond, scurrying to defend yourself. “And you don’t see me complaining…”

Even if you wanted so much to do so.

“No, of course not—too busy with them, aren’t you??”

“Excuse me? You’re—You’re one to talk! You never answered any of my texts, or calls!” you gasp. “Do you even know how… how…”

Hurt I was?

Guessing by his absence, you assume not.

… Oh, how you wished Naoya kept silent. Kept his words to himself and went on acting as he always did, because maybe, you wouldn’t have felt this burning anger stirring inside you, created by the reassurance by those around you, the reminder that you were still deserving of being cared for, appreciated.

Far more than what Naoya has ever done for you in the past few years.

That much you see now.

“… Let me get this straight, Naoya… you want me to come back… because you don’t want me to see others, even though you did the same thing??” you say, and by the gloomy look in Naoya’s eyes, you could tell you guessed right, stinging a nerve while in the process.

Yet not a sentiment that insulted him, but rather… reminded him of the shocking truth he’s keeping away from you.

Hoping it stays that way, unless you place the pieces together yourself.

“Do not talk to me like that.” He warns, you frown.

“I’m just stating the truth—you went to see someone as soon as you left that day, didn’t you?”

“That’s not—why does it even matter at this point? You did the same afterwards!”

“Again with that—You were the one that suggested it in the first place!” you gasp. “Why does it bother you so much?? Didn’t you…. Weren’t you encouraging me to it?!”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I expected you to actually—”

Realizing the imprudence of his words, he suddenly goes silent.

“Expected to actually… what?” you frown.

Naoya doesn’t answer, all he does is scoff before looking away.

A few more seconds of silence, something clicks in your mind.

Anger finally taking a hold of your emotions.

Because just how foolish could you have been?

“Please, come back.” Is what Naoya eventually says. “I don’t want an open relationship anymore—let’s just forget about this and… move on.”

“And why would I do that?” you scowl. “Don’t you have other dates to go to?”

…

Silence yet again.

“Naoya?”

“I don’t. I… never did.”

The truth jolts you far more than you imagined, for it completely contradicts all that you once believed to be true, replacing the pain you’d been feeling since that day, the tears, the anger, and all your actions… with nothing.

As if everything you suffered… was void of any true meaning.

But that was only one point of view, you had yet to see Naoya’s. The truth as to why he hadn’t gotten any dates.

Or at least… successful ones.

Naoya did go out with women that caught his interest, having his go-to procedure ready to go when it came to impressing them, such as taken them to an expensive restaurant, gifting them luxurious jewelry, or simply showing off the privilege his family name provided— things he was sure would get him in their pants.

But when he thought it was only a matter of seconds before he got lucky, they would coldly ignore him, turn around, and… disappear.

It was difficult for him to understand why that happened, considering all that he “offered” …

What he failed to realize, though, is that one simple yet big problem stood between him and his ultimate goal: a personality many weren’t willing to tolerate, especially with the intensity he seemed to go on about, no matter the amount of riches he represented.

And soon, it wouldn’t take long before rumors of his personality began to spread into the circles he was involved in, not like it wasn’t happening already beforehand, Naoya was already well-known as a bratty heir with an equally explosive temperament—he just became more… popular.

Rumors he never had issues with, unbothered by them, because you… well, you seemed to not care for them. Willingly tolerating him instead, perhaps far more than he was deserving of, and keeping by his side, no matter what.

Giving him a false sense of confidence.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t come to realize this until seeing you with someone else—whispers and sightings of your dates, far more successful than any of his attempts, and without even trying, was enough to ignite a fire under his ass and come rushing to you.

Falsely believing it was just a matter of calling it off for everything to return as it was—you by his side, and his blinding jealousy effectively gone. Because only he deserved to have you.

Failing to realize the damage he’s already struck onto this relationship,

Yet, he still came back, shamelessly expecting he’d be received with the forgiveness, compassion and care you unconditionally provided, no matter the gravity of his mistakes…

But what seemed noble, prophetic even, for him—

Was only insulting to you, and when the nature of his actions reveals itself to you, your anger transforms intofury.

Because a man like Naoya shouldn’t have the freedom to openly discard you, and then want you back when things aren’t going his way—without facing consequences.

You were not there to be a steppingstone of sorts, be there through every single step of the road, sacrifice your life… only to be replaced just because he wants.

It was painful, it was unjust…

And it was unpunished.

For him to make it up for you, he’ll have to face the repercussions of his acts, experience just how much you suffered…

Only then, would you consider going back to him.

“I’m sorry, but I have things to do.”

“What?” Naoya’s eyes widen. “What do you mean you have things to do, Y/N? What could you…—you’re going to see someone.”

“And what if I am?” you frown. “I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”

“I don’t want this anymore!” He gasps. “I don’t want you to see anyone else, just me!”

“…Then you’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Until I’m sure we belong together, you know? You said so yourself, I just need to get it out of my system before I make a decision—” At being served a spoonful of his own medicine, the color in Naoya’s face disappears. “Only then, will I’ll come back.”

If you ever do.

“Y/N—Wait!”

Because after what you have planned for the following weeks, Naoya would only be lucky if you even do as little as think of him.

Shoko is the one that let everyone know of your new "single" life. Except Sukuna, that man has ears everywhere, and when he saw it as his moment, he rose to the occasion. Nice.

Not gonna lie, this idea has been on my mind for a while now, like, as soon as Y/N is single people begin to hound her. Everyoneeeeeeeee Naoya really does not realize the stupidity he committed until it's too late. :)

And there you have it, my take on an open relationship with him! I once read that open relationships don't work, unless you're talking about celebrities, and I'm honestly inclined to accept that...

But yeah, him doing this is like the worst thing Naoya could think of; there's just so many things that could go wrong—safe to say, in another universe 1) Naoya would never suggest it. 2) Y/N would never accept it lol.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope it was to your liking :> ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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inkdrinkerworld · 9 months ago

Note

may i request reverse comfort with dick grayson??

or something where he takes care of reader and protects them.

Oh oh I have a thought!!! Dick x shy Team doctor!reader after an attack at the compound.

“It’s never this way round,” Dick says as he ushers you to the medical room with a hand firmly pressed to your thigh.

“No,” your teeth are gritted and you can feel your pulse hammering and the blood rushing through your head.

“On a scale of one to amputation, how bad is it?” He asks and you scoff, a sound that quickly turns into a gasp as Dick sets you on the work table.

“Like a six, Dick. It’s mostly surface level.” You say, teeth still gritted as you move his hand and take a peek at the wound. “Okay, maybe a little deeper than surface.”

Dick looks piqued. There’s a wrinkle between his eyebrows and his usual quick witted quips fall short. “Deep enough for needles or butterfly stitches?” There’s a hint of panic in his words if you listen closely. Which you aren’t doing.

“Needles just to be safe,” Dick hands you a pack of them and a pair of scissors, a grimace set on his face. “You don’t have to stay for this. I can stitch myself up.”

He shakes his head. “You got laser-beamed in your thigh because you were trying to get between me and Darkseid- that was stupid by the way.”

You shrug, “What was he even doing here? Thought he was more of Clark’s problem?”

He bats your hand away from your thigh and grabs gauze and some rubbing alcohol. “He is, but you know, one member of the Justice League’s problem is a problem for all of them.”

You hiss when he presses the cold gauze into your thigh and he murmurs a soft apology.

“Will he be back?” Dick thinks your adrenaline is just coming down and you’re starting to think a little clearer. It also lends to the fear bleeding into your words.

“Probably, but you won’t be here when he does, gorgeous.”

You frown, “I won’t?” Maybe it’s the way you ask, that soft insecurity in your tone that makes Dick pause.

“Hey, not like that. The Bat has a million safe houses, so do I. You can choose where you want to go, yeah?”

Your frown doesn’t move an inch. “How safe would I be in a place with no one else? What if it’s compromised and I’m there alone.”

Dick sets the gauze down and takes the tools from your hands. His fingers push your hair away from your face and stroke your cheeks. “Hey, hey. You’re snowballing, baby.”

You take a deep breath and sag against him. “I just,” you pause. “I don’t want to be somewhere new all alone.” He rubs your back and squeezes your shoulders before sitting on your rolling chair.

Dick threads the needle as he sits and makes full eye contact with you as he starts the stitch. “You won’t be alone,”

You shake your head, leaning back on your palms. “A house full of people I don’t know? I’ll be alone, Dick.”

He shakes his head, “I’ll come with you, if you want.” He knows this could all just be fear, that the fear of something worse happening is running circles in your mind right now, but he does mean it. “It’ll help us get closer.” The joke does its job in making you smile- especially when his eyebrows dance.

You watch him close the hole on your thigh in silence for a little while before saying, “Will you bring your movies?”

Dick’s smile is gargantuan as he closes off the stitch. “And whatever else you want me to, but I should tell you I feel offended that you don’t think my sparkling personality would be enough entertainment.”

“I never said that,” you slap his arm as he stands, watching as he reaches for a gauze pad to wrap over the wound.

Dick’s hands settle at your waist, “I’m serious about you getting in front of me being dumb. You can’t do that again,” his eyes are all serious as he looks at you and you realise then that he’d actually been terrified. “I can take a hit, yeah?”

You nod, chewing the inside of your cheek to stop from saying something silly. Like confessing your love for him when it could be dismissed as your adrenaline. Or knowing Dick, he wouldn’t stop teasing you ever about how you confessed after he played doctor and it was a violation of patient doctor relationship rules.

“Not that there’s ever going to be a time where you get the chance to do it again.” You roll your eyes. “I’ll make some time to teach you some hand to hand combat if you insist on being part time vigilante though.”

“With who?” If he says himself you’re going to go ablaze. You really are.

He saves you the real embarrassment by flashing you a smug grin but all it does it twist your belly up in knots and make your chest squeeze at how much you like him.

“Wanna tell me what to pack or are we not there yet?” You laugh then, a soft sound that makes Dick feel like he’d just found out the best cyber related information.

“We aren’t there, Dick. But help me down and I’ll show you to my stash of cookies- if they’re not blown to bits.”

#dickgrayson #dick grayson #dick grayson one shot #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson drabble #dick grayson blurb #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson fic #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson x shy!reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x black reader #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x gender neutral reader #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson x you

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localplaguenurse · 10 months ago

Note

Playing a game with Pantalone but everytime one of you loses you have to remove one article of clothing and suffice to say you lost all your clothes rather quickly and now he's smirking on how shall he indulge in you this time

I thought this was a predator/prey situation at first, which would have been pretty pog, but then I remembered the dumb strip poker joke I made the other day and realized that’s probably what you were talking about-

So that’s what I’m gonna write

CONTENT WARNING: Playing strip poker, no full blown smut but still suggestive. I might circle back to this in the future because I have ideas, but I’m not in a super smutty mood. Honestly it’s more silly than anything, but 18+ please. Also I have only played the Luigi poker minigame so shhh.

You hate this game, you don’t know why you keep agreeing to play it, and you hate that it was all your idea to begin with. It sounded like a fun way for you and your husband to spice things up a little, and in general seemed like a fun way to bond. Sure, you figured he’d win the first few times you played, but you weren’t complaining at the time. Surely, he wouldn’t win every time, right?

… Right?

You glare at your hand because you don’t want to glare at Pantalone. It’ll mean you have to look at his stupid smug grin over his winning streak. You see it every time he suggests you two play a few rounds of strip poker. Tonight is no different, and though you love his face so much, you cannot stand looking at him right now.

You don’t question if you’re losing because you have terrible luck or if you’re just bad at poker anyways. You know it’s both. It also can’t help that your husband is very good at taking chances and placing bets. He never makes a decision until he’s certain of the outcome and that it will work in his favour. You find this trait very admirable, except for right now.

“Darling, are you alright?” Pantalone asks, faux concern lacing his words. “You’re shivering a little.”

You’re currently hugging a pillow to your bare chest, both to give yourself some dignity, and because you’re nearly nude. “I’m fine.”

He chuckles. “Well, if that’s the case, have you decided what your next move is?”

“I-I’m still thinking,” you grumble, body cold but face burning hot. Truth be told, your hand is shit. The only thing you have going for you are two fives, and that’s it. That may as well be nothing with how your game has been going. Pantalone’s only lost the shirt, and you’re pretty sure it’s because he felt bad for you and threw that round. You don’t know what’s worse, him pitying you, or that he still decimated you.

You take two cards out of your hand and discard them, leaving only the two fives and an ace. You’re already certain you’re losing the round anyways, so you might as well see if you can get another ace, or maybe a five. Just something to make your hand better than being just above trash.

“Interesting…”

“Shush.”

You pick up two new cards and place them in your deck. Let’s see, you had a five of hearts, five of diamonds, and an ace of spades. You’ve picked up–

No way.

You blink, trying not to let your shock show (your poker face isn’t that great, either). Those two new cards consist of an ace of diamonds, and a five of clubs. Holy shit. Holy shit. That’s a full house! The only way Pantalone can beat that is if he gets 4 of a kind, a straight flush or a royal flush. You actually have a chance! Not a chance of winning the game, Archons no, but you’ll be keeping your underwear on for a round longer.

You smile, and present your hand. “Full house.”

Pantalone’s eyebrows widen, and he smiles. “Oh, goodness! Look at you! You’re starting to get the hang of this now. That is very impressive, my darling.”

You cross your arms, giving him the smug grin he’s been giving you all evening.

He sighs. “That… makes this all the more painful, I’m afraid.”

You watch as Pantalone lays his cards down in front of you. Your eyes widen, and your jaw drops.

“... Absolutely not.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Are you kidding me!?” you ask. “A royal flush?! No, no I refuse… You did not just get that!”

“I assure you, darling,” he purrs, “I got it fair and square.”

You glare at him and his cards. An ace, a queen, a king, a jack, and a ten of hearts. Of course it has to be hearts, too.

“Now then, I think you know the rules.”

“Fine, fine, you win.” You move the pillow from your chest and toss it at his head. It makes contact, which makes him laugh. “I know the drill.”

“My my, you make it sound like such a horrible fate,” he teases. “Sure, I may have won again, but I think we both know this will be… equally rewarding for us, no?”

You roll your eyes. “Easy for you to say, champion strip poker king…”

“Oh, my little darling,” he coos in such a patronizingly sweet voice, “where’s the fun in being such a spoilsport? Don’t you enjoy playing with me?”

“I do, but it’s just frustrating that you’ve won every game we play.”

Pantalone laughs. “Then I suppose you’ll have to get good, as people say. Now, about my prize...”

#ask #sheepy!#pantalone #pantalone smut #pantalone x reader #idk if i need the pantalone smut tag but may as well get my bases covered

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heli0s-writes · 1 year ago

Text

forget your perfect offering*

summary: Captain America hasn’t been home in years and it’s turned him into something a little lost, a little broken.

a/n: Hi hi!! Guess who's back on the Nomad Steve angst/smut train after 5 months??? 3k words. Please stop reading if you're not 18+ This is very Clumsy adjacent.

Captain America hasn’t been home in years and it’s turned him into something a little lost, a little broken. Going dark on the United States government when it’s put a price on your head will do that, he supposes. He’s even picked up a new habit of flinching at shadows despite maneuvering in them for eternity.

Not eternity, but he’s dramatic and full throttle. Never once learned that some things can be half-measures, can be compromised on. He’s got his handful of soldiers—friends— and he can’t forget that they’re friends because soldiers are pawns and friends are crucial.

Back then, he was just a newly reanimated statuette, a votive figurine to justice rendered flesh and bone and so damn brittle. And how could he believe it would last? The entire thing fell apart within a few years—a team scattered to pieces; an entire nation’s vision discarded on the side of the road.

A lot of Americans are angry with him for that, and most days he tries not to be angry at himself, which is stupid according to you and Sam and Nat. But being angry at propaganda and history and circumstances is too intangible to do much with, so at least being angry with himself means he can kneel into a fight, leave too little in the tank for the trip back, find a way to be punished for his transgressions.

He’d always been reckless, but it’s becoming a flag much to red to ignore.

You tell him he’s got a death wish. Plain and simple: keep it up and you’ll die, and nothing more, leaving the jet ride in silence, everyone averting their eyes. But he just wipes the blood out of his mouth and says, “Hasn’t seemed to work out for me yet.”

Back at the house—the house, not his house, or anybody’s house, certainly not a home in its unremarkable exterior, interior, living spaces cobbled together with rickety, mismatched furniture and chipped ceramic kitchenware—he returns to his book. Sinks himself into the reading nook and opens it up to a page he’s been pretending to pay attention to.

Natasha showers first, Sam crashes into his bed face-down, and you linger by the old T.V., poking at the adjacent radio.

“Hey, death boy.”

He looks up, startled. “Death boy?”

“Yeah,” you grin, glancing over your shoulder. “Death boy. Your new superhero name.”

You say it breezily, eyes half-mast because it’s been a real dog-shit kind of day and even Steve can hardly focus.

Sam’s dead to the world and Nat’s going on 30 minutes under water, so it’s a fair estimate to say that it’s to the point where he can feel how powered-down his brain is, and that if he tries to speak more than three phrases at a time, it’ll hardly make any damn sense. Or, inevitably, make matters worse.

He tries for controlled, comes out not so much. “It’s a little morbid, don’t you think?”

You gasp, scandalized. “Silly me, you haven’t been morbid at all recently. Gosh, it’s not like you were trying to get gutted—he was swinging so wide and slow, how could I think you’d manage dodging in time?” You clasp your hands over your mouth dramatically, “How could I suggest—”

“That’s enough.” Steve pinches his nose-bridge with one hand and closes the book with the other. He’s going to drown himself in the bathtub when Natasha’s finished—go drama—but he’s grinning a little bit, not dumb enough to hide when he’s been caught out.

You punch a button on the radio, tune it to a station that’s only slightly screeching with interference. There’s a discernible piano melody but he doesn’t know the song. You tap along, feeling out the rhythm, and then you cast your eyes to the reading nook he’s crushed into before pointing at the middle of the floor.

For all his miserable ruminating he always forgets to account for you at the end of the day, standing there and waiting for him like he’s got any choice. He declares all sorts of bullshit about how making the right decision can feel like no decision at all when it’s inherently justified; reason should feel like reflex, ethics an extension. But lately, the only reflex he’s felt is closer to vanishing.

He’s disappearing from view a little more each night, reduced to a crumbling idol of an endangered faith because humanity’s stopped believing in him and part of him is following the same course. He’s become an old relic chipped away in the flow of time, and some days he’d rather just be good and gone.

Keep it up and you’ll die.

Part of him already has. Part of him’s already in the ground.

“Come on,” you say with a surprising amount of patience, eyes soft and hand extended. “Are you gonna get up or am I gonna have to drag your ass again?”

The song is plunking away, cutting in and out intermittently, notes quivering on scratches of static. Nat’s started to dry her hair, the sound like a tornado alarm trapped in a bathroom but it’s persistent, fighting the wailing blow-dryer for an audience. She’s probably freezing cold because the house’s water heater is shoddy at best and Sam can fix that but he’s been exhausted lately and no one’s going to complain because they’ve never complained about their situation-- not once.

He bites down, frowns a little deeper, but then he’s on his feet, giving chase like you could take him somewhere whole and unbroken. Somewhere he’s been craving for. His hands around your waist are careful, resting his chin on top of your head as you nuzzle in.

He asks through gritted teeth, “Listening for a heartbeat?”

“I know where your heart is.”

He’s so goddamn maudlin, can’t stop the bitterness from lashing out. “Where’s that?”

“With us, death boy. With me.”

He makes a noncommittal sound, dismissive and very, very rude of him, but he’s on a roll and won’t be appeased. You lazily read the lines of his face with stunned eyes, then touch your nose to his bearded chin as you lean up.

You stroke his scalp, spinning the feathery ends of his long hair. “You want to be hurt so bad, don’t you?” Your nails rake down the length of his strong neck. “Is that what you’re used to? Is it more comfortable that way?”

“Enough,” he murmurs faintly, but makes no move to push you away, only stepping in time, rocking along. When your hand tightens into a fist to pull at him, he bites down, shuts his eyes. You do it again, harder, and then let go, letting your fingers spread at the base of his skull, cradling it like a child.

“You want to be beaten within an inch of your life, want to be pried open so you can check if you’re still capable of dying.” Cold words, but your breath is hot, and he’s starting to feel it—that telltale shiver at the base of his spine at the way you won’t break eye contact.

“I know, I know,” you coo, “it hasn’t happened yet.” You move away, smiling big and dark and glistening with promise. “But listen, Steve, all you have to do is ask.”

He can’t tell what expression he’s making, only that your pupils open to swallow him. You’re staring at him, not through him. Taking in his flesh and the warm blood cascading down his face.

The night is taking its toll, it seems. Collecting on long, hard hours, making the both of you reckless.

He thinks about months ago, and the complication of ethics in the way.

Not sleeping with teammates, not losing the fucking plot no matter how much he craved losing it for a couple of hours. There were several weeks before it went sideways, before Bucharest and the Accords, where he spent doing nothing but dedicating himself to daydreaming. He sank into the quiver of his own body as he imagined you and everything he wanted to know by touch.

There were dances, like this. Swaying back and forth in Sam’s backyard and gala celebrations, onlookers getting a few ideas about what his eyes were communicating when he’d trace the curve of your shoulders or the delicate insides of your wrists. How everyone else might follow Captain America into the jaws of death but he’d follow only you, headlong, beyond, and into the goddamn afterlife if you asked him.

But there was a line he couldn’t cross. A soft, tangerine horizon much too far out of his reach when the dark was at his back, beating him to the ground. Making him flinch from warmth because entanglement was too complicated and love was too kind.

Tony asked him what it felt like to fuck up so astronomically. Nat only clucked her tongue, more disappointment in a single sound than Steve had heard from many grand lectures.

Because you would have been vibrant and glorious, damn it. You would have giggled— giggled— when you made love, crooned his name like a songbird and touched him everywhere, all at once. You would have kissed fire back into him, licked your way into the center of that votive figurine and traced his broken heart. You would have excavated him, clawed him out clean, led him into the light.

So, he knows. He knew then, knows now, knows for the rest of his days when he’s let a beautiful thing slip through his fingers.

But sometimes, this happens and his hands feel like they’ve still held on despite his attempts. Sometimes you brush his knuckles, smile at him small and sweet and come into his makeshift room, sit on the side of his bed and exist side by side. Sometimes there wouldn’t even be conversation.

But when you linger by the door, gaze slowly raking down the length of his body and his throat, his mouth, all ten of his fingertips—god, what he wouldn’t give then, to take you to the floor and declare fuck it.

Fuck ethics and fuck his entire life, if needed, because there was only you, only what he’d been needing for ages, only that brilliant and terrifying afterlife awaiting him.

The reflex, then, is not to disappear anymore, but to kneel in.

You say, both hands come to rest around his throat— because you’ve seen him now, seen him the entire time, “If you want it that much, Steve, I can give it to you. A hundred tiny deaths, so sweet and good, until it hurts so bad you really do feel like you’re dying.”

He gulps, Adam’s apple catching each of your fingers on the way up and back down. Says, “Yeah,” before he even registers it. He blurts, going cold and hot and shell-shocked, “I’d let you do anything you want.”

Just then, the bathroom door clatters open and Natasha steps out, towel wrapped around her as she pads across the living space toward her room.

She looks from you to Steve, briefly studying the single foot of distance between your faces, the forgotten music, the way he can’t seem to keep his breathing in order.

The way you’ve got his throat in your hands.

She doesn’t even stop as she passes by, carding her fingers through her hair for a final act of detangling. “Wilson sleeps heavy,” she yawns, which implies, I don’t, so keep whatever the hell it is you two are doing down.

Then she’s gone with only pressure left in her wake. Only his breath fighting with his lungs, his belly tight and hot and his flavorless mouth so fucking starved for yours.

You raise a judgmental eyebrow after he does nothing for a beat too long, too lost in potential backpedaling to advance the plot. “That’s not asking, Steve.”

He’s stupid, dizzy, like he’s been dropped on his head, but not that stupid. He can’t keep his eyes off your mouth. Doesn’t even know if he says it, but tries anyway, “Will you please,” and the rest goes out the window. You lean in. You kiss him better than he could ever have imagined.

He’s living the teenage years he never had.

You kiss him like you’ve got all the time in the world—like it isn’t past four in the morning and the both of you are one silent minute away from slipping into unconsciousness. You kiss lazy and slow and sublime. You press a thumb at the corner of his mouth, touch inside of him, and he wants to do it back. But he wants it right.

“This,” he starts, almost whimpering when you run your teeth beneath his ear, molding your body to his, the two of you staggering into the wall and the end table and poor Natasha across the house must be digging up her earplugs. “I’m not good with—casual—”

“Yeah, you don’t think I know that?” You only pause for enough air to hassle him before taking his hands, your own so small over them, so much power over him, and place them on your waist. “You don’t think I know you’re an all-in kind of guy?”

Of course, you know. Of course, anyone who’s ever heard of Steven Grant Rogers can figure it out. It’s always going to be full throttle for him. Casual isn’t a word that exists in his dictionary, and he won’t compromise on that. He couldn’t do this any other way because now he wants to do it all—to feel you, inside out, across time and the universe and infinity.

He shucks off your clothes, doesn’t mind the grit of the day on your skin, wants it even, to know what you’re like every hour of every day. He tears off his own tac gear, can’t keep his mouth off yours for even a second as he stumbles across the floor.

When he reaches the bed, you climb on top, warm between your legs and so perfect over his thigh. He’s rocking his hips against yours, mouthing at your breasts, grabbing your ass and waist and snarling into your neck like an animal. Lazy and slow twists into frantic and desperate, him throbbing and throbbing against your skin.

He leans back, takes you down with him, bra strap limp at your elbows, panties to the side and he wedges back between the space of his thigh and your sex. He wants—wants.

“You’re warm,” he breathes.

When he pulls out, there’s a sloppy noise following your moan and he rubs his fingers together, awed at the glistening web slipping down to his palm.

One finger becomes two, the coat of slick up to his knuckles and he’s using too much tongue when he kisses you but you don’t mind that at all.

He’s not any kind of virgin but he really feels like one. In the sense that he’s turned on by everything. Too much stimulation. On his skin, in his brain, he’s immersed in one second while predicting the next, seeing the possible ways it could go. Too much pent-up desire swells up the length of his cock as he palms and presses it against the underside of your thigh for contact. His chest is heaving, breath stuttery, eyes wild and unfocused.

You grab his face, pull him away from your collar. You’re only a slight mess, but Christ, what a sight. He must be about fifty times worse because you’re grinning wide, looking him up and down as he arches forward to get you back.

You tut, “If I really wanted to kill you,” you say, “I’d leave you right now.”

“Please don’t,” he manages hoarsely, the fire in his belly lashing out.

“Because I’m so nice.”

“Yes.” And suddenly, his sunny face turns overcast, all the joyful cacophony from before muting. “Yes, you are.”

“Steve,” you sigh, rubbing your forehead with your hands for something to do with them.

He hauls himself up on his elbows, starting to feel upset.

You lean back on your palms, head lolling between your shoulder blades, aggrieved.

“Sorry,” he recants.

“Steve.”

He can’t make eye contact, but you don’t ask him to again, only touching his jaw with a finger and erasing the last few minutes with a nuzzle of your nose to his, like saying don’t worry about it, it’s okay.

Then, more kissing, more of that touch he dreamed about and he wants to kick his past self for missing it, for even daring to fantasize when the real thing is so much more.

The night melts away, each hour lasting a blink or an eternity—he can’t be bothered by it now. He figures the sun’s coming up, though, because there’s that haze of early morning past the gauzy, frayed curtain.

Your palms are on his chest, pawing at him for leverage each time you grind down, each time you swallow him back inside of you. You push, like an act of resuscitation— one, two, one, two— a rhythmic, electric, life-giving staccato beat that has him gasping for air, has him keening and groaning without any thought to how loud he might be.

And, fuck it, fuck it all. He is, admittedly, loud.

Sorry, Nat, he winces mentally before his brain’s wiped clear of all thought.

There’s nothing but you, and you, and you.

And that poor, broken heart inside of him, crushed to fine powder, being reworked into brilliance.

He lies there afterwards, gazing into the ceiling as he breathes back down to calm. There’s the thrall of exhaustion behind his eyes but it’s being overridden by a terrible, traitorous voice that’s telling him how he can’t seem to stop fucking up.

He can’t breathe suddenly, the room collapsing into a pinhole, darkness threatening the edges of his sight.

And then you say, because you always know what to say, “It’s okay to be a little broken,” you stroke his chest. “Baby, that’s how the light gets in.”

And the morning is breaking through fully now, streaks of it clearing up his eyes, cutting him to pieces beneath you.

“Yes,” he agrees and meets you for another lengthy kiss, every shrapnel inch of him raw and searing hot. All his exposed parts—the grief and agony and self-hatred—turned to gold. You touch his dark edges with your fingertips. You trace a new dawn’s light in his hair.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers angst #steve rogers smut

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littledollll · 2 years ago

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Breeding kink with Luci 👀 creative reign bby

One hell of a welcome

Lucifer x champion!reader

A/n: for context Angels are genderless, and they can freely shift between sex as they please, I stand by my statement. Dicks are hard to write about.

Warnings: kinda silly with a lil dark? Reader has a Harley Quinn personality in the beginning and likes being gory, Lucifer loving that, breeding kink, praise, degradation, powerbottom Lucifer, daddy Lucifer?, throne room sex, ooc Lucifer? bc fuck it (literally), dirty talk, kinda mean dom!lucifer, exhibitionism

Beelzebub really needed to give up on challenging you.

Up til now you have rejected the idea of a fight but recently the idea of making a proposal the next time he did seemed just too sweet, you didn’t think the prideful idiot would agree, neither did Lucifer in all honesty, when they challenged you this time after they set their same prize “if I win, you serve me instead of Lucifer” as if you worked for them? You agreed regardless, just for the amusement of it. “You know what I’m in a humbling mood, I’ll do it! but when I win, you give me your third part of hell, and maybe your skull.” You sounded amused, which was just a little concerning for the demon challenging you.

Lucifer cracked a very proud smile, it sure would be lovely to rule along your side officially, maybe your get rid of Azazel together too. “Are we sure that’s even allowed-“ Beelzebub looked around the room, waiting for somebody to say you couldn’t. Waiting for Lucifer or Azazel to defend him but all he got was a head tilt from Lucifer, examining him. “So Beelzebub, do you accept the terms of this challenge?” You ask dryly, sick of waiting for his jaw to snap back into place.

“Ambitious thing, you are. And dumb, very dumb. I accept your terms, ‘your majesty’” he replied mockingly, that cocky tone wasn’t gonna help him in any way. “You have a smart mouth, but can you hold your own against me without the help of the Morningstar?” He spat. “Are you proposing a ability based game, Beelzebub? And you say I am the dumb one..” you trail off.

The fight was over in seconds. You got the first move as the challenged, your very much useful ability, agony, making this a swift fight, with your simple command Beelzebub was brought to his knees. “Nobody said anything about pacing, right? Fair game?” You looked around the room, casually as Beelzebub succumbed to the pain, the few present had no complaints.

He had to call it though, the match would last as long as he held off, Beezelbub could chose to continue suffering until one of you tired and ended him or give up. “I will literally drive you insane, Kay? Just give up already I’m bored.”

“Beezelbub, stop making a fool of yourself and call it.” Said Azazel, sounding just annoyed.

You were sat on the floor near him. “Do u want me to help you? I’ll take myself out and everything!” He seemed to be annoyed by your teasing for some reason. “This is really sad, remind me again why and how he was allowed to co-rule?” You giggled then stoped smiling suddenly very serious and looked at him tilting your head. “I think I won, so I’m gonna stop now yeah? And if you try to strike back I will turn your insides into outsides.”

“Of course you caught yourself a crazy one.” Azazel muttered to Lucifer who was just amused watching and listening to you.

“Insanity is a beautiful thing in hell. It’s oddly satisfying isn’t it? How she talks and acts, fits right in, but can also be levelheaded enough to get things done, and done well at that, she can be as calm and collected as me when she really wants to, but what’s the point of that now? She’s simply having fun.”

Indeed you were. Beezelbub gasped for breath when you released the grip of agony you had over him. “I’d end you right now but.. I think it’ll be fun to watch you mope around while I proudly take your title as co-ruler and do your job better!” You patted his head and smiled. “Challenge me again and I will take it with my bare hands though, understand?”

You simply turned and skipped over to Lucifer giving him no time to respond. Sitting on their lap you kissed their cheek and looked up. “How’d I do!?” Azazel laughed. “Using agony first move? Nasty trick.” You frowned. “Yeah well I was- am tired of his shit!” You huffed and slumped against Lucifer’s shoulder, then they spoke. “Azazel, do us a favor and take him with you on your way out, we thank you.” Azazel did just that, and Lucifer locked all entrances once they left.

“That was certainly a show, dearest, how’s your head?” Agony took concentration, it wasn’t as easy as just commanding it upon someone, you needed to find their own, exploit it, and enhance it, giving you the worse headaches, it’s why you usually stuck with driving your opponents to their own demise, insanity came as second nature.

“Tortured! And it’s supposed to be my job to deliver it, not experience it!.. he’s lucky I didn’t end him.” You mumbled that last part, Lucifer sighed. “Must you be so pessimistic, have you forgotten you’ve won against one of the rulers of hell already? And you did it wonderfully.. such good girl.” Their lips met your neck and shoulders with open mouthed kisses while you fell silent.

“You definitely deserve a reward, don’t you think.. my queen?” you whimpered in response, hands coming up to undo their clothes while they practically tore away your own, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Lucifer’s hands made their way between your thighs, rubbing tight circles on your clit thought your underwear. “I want you to ruin these.”

“ooh please- daddy!” You cried. “Oh? That’s new, whats going on in that little head of yours, Darling?�� that signature amused tone and smirk coming through as they spoke. “I want- I pick my reward. Want you to fill me up.” you moan grinding your hips against the bulge you were suddenly made aware of, making them hiss and grip your hips. “One hell of a request, pet.” Lucifer hummed and made quick work of the remaining clothes getting rid of them before pulling you fully onto their lap, you wasted no time on teasing or prep, supporting yourself on their shoulders slowly sinking onto their cock.

You ground your hips onto theirs while you adjusted, pulling a hiss from Lucifer. Their hands grip your hips forcing you to a stop. “Don’t be greedy, my darling. Don’t forget who’s in control here.” You nodded, just wanting them to fuck you senseless already. “I’ll be good, promise” you whined and pouted, wishing they’d just take you. “Don’t make me regret letting you be on top.”

“I want you to breed me- please Luci..” the second you started riding them, Lucifer started pounding into your cervix, hard and fast ready to comply with your begging. You cried out when you felt the pain and pleasure shoot through your body. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll make sure you can feel me dripping out of you for days.” The grip they had on your hips was painful, definitely going to bruise, as they repeatedly slammed you down to meet their thrusts.

“Everyone’s gonna know the new queen of hell likes getting stuffed until she can’t walk, do you want that? my pretty little whore.” You only whimpered at their words, earning yourself a slap against your thigh. “Answer me, doll.” Lucifer pounded into you with abandon making your body tense you moaned out. Another slap and a twitch of their hand before they gripped onto you again. “Yes yes! I want- daddy!” You cried, practically falling onto them as your body move on it’s own chasing your high.

“Finish that thought, pet.” You clenched around them and their hips stuttered for only a second before going back to their bruising pace. All you could hear was their groans and hisses, your moans and the sound of skin slapping. Kissing over their neck you decided to mark them as they would you, making them moan. “Such a good whore, aren’t you? So pretty for me..” a hand ran down the line of your spine making you shiver and sigh, such a soft gesture, silently reassuring.

“Go on, pet.” Oh, you’d almost forgotten. “What do you want, pretty?” “I want them to know I’m all yours.” You stuttered and Lucifer hummed in response. “Oh they know.” There was a smugness in their voice, but you didn’t understand why just yet. You wondered what they meant only for a second before they angled their hips, hitting constantly right against your g-spot.

“Oh fuck W-wait- luce!” Your legs were shaking, it was too much. You couldn’t keep moving. “What’s wrong pet? Too weak to keep going?” You knew it wasn’t really a question. So you didn’t answer.

Lucifer did it all for you. Their hand sneaking between your legs rubbing your clit. That was all you needed before you screamed, your grip on their hair tightened and your body curled into them, your orgasm triggered their own and the feeling of them filling you up made your eyes roll back as your forehead rested on their chest, panting. You swore you lost all your senses for a minute before you felt their hand squeeze your hip.

You hummed, spreading lazy kisses all over their chest while you both recovered, and after a while you noticed it. “Did you-“ they chuckled. “About half an hour ago.” Hell has never been quiet, but it’s never this loud, not near the throne room anyways, not unless Lucifer summons them. You turned red. Opting to just stay hidden in their neck until the embarrassment faded. “I thought it was proper way to officially welcome their new queen, no?” That fucking smirk.

#the sandman #lucifer morningstar (the sandman)#lucifer morningstar the sandman #the sandman lucifer morningstar #lucifer sandman smut #lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #gwendoline christie #the sandman lucifer smut

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artemx746 · 11 months ago

Text

In light of Matpat’s ‘retirement’ is wanna say a couple things,

firstly, there is better things that you could be doing with your time than scrounging around looking for something that you can use to criticise someone for some perceived bigotry. I’ve seen some examples of him ‘being transphobic’ and since I’m trans I think I can speak a bit better about that. The most used evidence I’ve seen is one video theorising about pyro’s gender which is from TEN YEARS AGO. Using something from a decade ago as damning evidence of a persons current beliefs is not only silly but also it denies them as a person of their humanity and their ability to grow

As a trans person myself I think it’s antithetical to our own identity because to be trans is to change and grow, whether that he in your appearance or in your own mindset. And to be human and to simply be alive as a creature on this earth is to change and evolve because that kinda what we do. I know on the internet it can be hard to realise that people have probably changed in the time since they posted anything but that leaves no excuse to attack people over stuff they said a decade ago because I think you’re more mature than that.

I wanna leave this post on a positive note so if there’s anything to learn from Matpat it’s that you don’t have to change the world to have made an impact

Simply the act of making someone smile means that you have made an impact. So keep making people happy whether it be by telling dumb jokes to your friends or by making a dumb tumblr post because that can really make somebody’s day better and you never know when someone’s day being a bit better will lead them

additionally do stuff that makes you happy, tell a dumb joke to your friends because it’ll make you happy, make a dumb tumblr post about something you LIKE (for the love of god hate blogs cannot be healthy for you) because you never know when you’re simply where that might lead you

As always I’m simply a person on tumblr not a professional in anything I have no authority on this but I do just like to see people happy. To summarise; that’s just a theory. Thanks for reading. 🩷

#game theory #matpat #matthew patrick #the game theorists

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sociopathicartist · 4 months ago

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heyy!! I was wondering if you could do a fluff (romantic) oneshot in which Sans (UT) has a gothic gf who is actually really sweet, kind and caring towards others despite the way she expresses herself. I'm just really curious as to how that dynamic will play out in their dating life ^_^

LUV LUV LUV UR WRITING BTW

hey! thank you for requesting, i’m gothic in style so i loved getting requested this! i scrambled through a lot of ideas, but thought doing this in a letter format would be the best for showing the full dynamic that sans loves instead of cramming tons of info into a single scenario one shot. hope you enjoy it!

baby,

i’m not too sure why i’m writing to you this time. i guess all the smiles and loving comments you give me whenever i write to you have finally got ‘under my skin’, and i’m writing you another letter right now, probably to be slipped into one of your bags or under your pillow for you to find.

i know a lot of people give you weird looks for the way you dress. i know the barrage of compliments you get when we go anywhere out in public annoys you, but i also know that you accept every compliment anyway despite wanting to be left alone because you don’t want to be mean, and you don’t want to fall under the stereotype that people place on you by just giving a small smile instead of a loud, outgoing thank you.

you’ve never said that to me directly, but i’ve been with you long enough to know how you feel.

i never really understood why people thought you were scary or mean for the way you look, figures they’d think the walking skeleton was scarier, or the seven-foot robot they watch on tv who has a chainsaw that can come out of him at will.

i never thought you looked scary, and i never had the fear that you were going to insult me whenever i asked you for directions down the street where we first met. why would i look at you differently for the way you look whenever everyone looks so different all the time? isn’t it a normal thing to be different?

even though you’re the most beautiful person i’ve ever seen (even if you turned into a worm, which yes, i’d still love you), it wouldn’t matter to me if you woke up tomorrow and decided to change your entire look. your looks aren’t what matters to me, even though i do like the cool eyeliner you wear or the t-shirts you have with bones on them.

i’ve never been loved by someone like the way i am by you.

i can’t get your alluring voice out of my head, and every time i roll over in bed to see the silly letters and doodles you’ve given me that i have pinned to my wall, i can’t help but be reminded of how much i love you. (even though i never forget, baby.)

it makes me so happy to see how much you hang out with papyrus, and how genuinely you treat him. i love seeing you chill out with our friends, and how happy and relaxed you look. i love how you’ve never made me feel dumb for not knowing certain human traditions or cultures, and how you just explain them to me and give me easy reminders when i forget something important.

even when your black lipstick leaves kiss stains on my skull that are hard to rub out, and when you steal my jacket to wear whenever you’re upset or missing me, i’ll never take away from how amazing you are.

maybe i’m gushing a bit too much. it’s a lot easier to write this all out rather than say it directly to your pretty face.

i just want you to know that i’ll never look at you differently for how you dress and that i’ll never be embarrassed and ask you to tone down your makeup or outfit for when we go out. i can’t wait to hang out tomorrow and wrap you in a tight hug, listening to your pretty voice as you tell me about how your day was.

i think i’m going to save the other mushy stuff for a later time. i just wanted you to be able to read this when someone gives you a weird comment or makes a snarky joke. maybe it’ll help you remember that some short skeleton out there thinks you’re the coolest (and hottest) creature to walk on this earth.

i love you, and i’ll be thinking of you always.

- sans.

#undertale #undertale au #undertale alternate universe #sans #sans undertale #sans x reader #classic sans #sans x you #sap #sans headcanons

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cuupidsss · 5 months ago

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Can I request an sbg x fem reader one-shot who has the powers of winter from aespa's new Supernova mv in the phantom world, but the drawback is that she gets sick and vomits blood + she has lucky girl syndrome (which means she's lucky asf)

A sbg x gn reader who is like emu otori from wonderlandxshowtime and she is the captain of the dance team + and has the fighting technique of mizuki just search up "mizuki wrestler" on tiktok.

I’m doing the second one because I’m inlove with the cute theme soo.. hope you like it ^_^

— I also added the lucky girl syndrome for this cause it fits a little, I would take your first request but it takes SO MUCH more research, I’ll find a time to do it though. ❤️

How could they truly react to you? When they had first met you their first impressions went well to say the least. You were bubbly and expressive and now or less extroverted. You were giggly aswell and it was hard to deny how you were a little ditzy sometimes.

Everyday at school you were always in a good mood, they never caught you in a bad one. At first when the phantom realm thing started they thought that it didn’t happen to you. They didn’t see you for the first or second time they went, it confused them, it truly did. You went to the sorrel weed house to? So how come it didn’t affect you.

They soon came to realize that was not the case. They saw you one day, running towards them and waving. Ashlyn was the first to react, it was only a couple minutes into the second day and you were just so happy to be here? Taylor ran towards you and you both hugged, even though you all aren’t close. Tyler and Ben were more or less standing awkwardly but Tyler looked a little upset. Aiden was just being.. Aiden? He was asking you some dumb questions and poking you. Logan looked concerned but everyone was overall okay.

You were really tired, you rubbed your eyes as they asked and harassed you with their concerned. You gave them a odd face and just shrugged.

“I don’t know! Lol?” You said with a little smile, they all suddenly had straight faces and Taylor giggled at how lost you sounded. “Those blob things were scary though!” You sounded so shocked, but not scared… at all.

You guys had been going to the realm for a couple days after this silly incident and they hadn’t really seen you fight, they all figured you couldn’t, Ashlyn decided that you guys might aswell see her parents to train. It could benefit all of you.

They were shocked, very shocked. ON HOW YOU REFUSED. Why didn’t you want to do it? It would literally benefit all of them. Tyler had the most negative reaction.

“Come on, this would help all of us! You’ll just drag us down if you can’t defend yourself!” He said something like that, practically saying you were dead weight if you couldn’t be of use. It didn’t hurt you to much, you knew what he meant to say and yet it didn’t affect you.

You decided to tell them you would accompany them, and accompany you did. When they asked one more time if you wanted to take your turn at getting your ass beat you said.

“No thank you!” And smiled sheepishly, “I already have sports I do like wrestling, I don’t need to learn anymore stuff!” The whole group went silent.

“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” Tyler asked. You didn’t hear him very well, it sounded like mumbling.

“Huh? What was-“ “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US THAT BEFORE?” His reaction was sort of funny, but you just kind of stood there all silly and blinked sheepishly.

You and Aiden get along pretty well, but you’ve had your creative differences.

“I think it’ll look better like this!” You said, showing him the show outfit idea for your next match.

“I think you should add a bow on the chest part, like a glitter force character!” He said nonchalantly as you groaned..

“Okay, should I add glitter?” You asked, your eyes lighting up, he quickly agreed. You got for work on it immediately.

They’ve come to a couple of your wrestling matches, you joined the school club. The club wasn’t separated by genders so imagine their suprise when you took down some guy who was much taller than you with little to no effort. After the match when you met up with them the first thing you said was;

“This uniform they make us wear is so not cute! Or comfy for that matter, they only let me put some sweatpants over the bottoms. And the bottoms are so tight!” You just raged about the uniform, you looked like a sad puppy, but they you brightened up again, “were you all impressed?”

“Why don’t you do this stuff in the phantom realm?” Taylor asked with a dumbstruck face as you mimicked her and everyone went silent. Ashlyn stared at you before sighing and dismissing Taylor’s question after looking at your face.

You and Ashlyn are close aswell. The grumpy, quiet and observant with the cute, playful, ditzy one was your guys favorite stereotype. Or at least yours..?

You two are complete opposites but go so well together, the only thing she has to complain about is how you can be so, so clueless.

“What do you think, (name)?” You blinked at Ashlyn’s question and made a weird face.

“About what?” You asked scratching your neck. She stared at you for a minute befor asking;

“Are you serious?” They had just been talking about the plan and you had missed so much of it. Besides that encounter you guys get along swell.

Taylor? Taylor is your girl. Your go to bestie, your number one. She gets you, she really gets you.

“Do you like my outfit? It’s for wrestling! I have a match tonight!” She marveled at your presented outfit, you had all been hanging out at your house and you wanted to personally show Taylor your outfit, in your room while the others hangout downstairs.

“It’s so cute? How is that for wrestling?” She says, messing with the bow that Aiden insisted you add. “The bow is cute.” You deadpan.

“Yeah it’s cute I guess.” You say blushing cockily, you flip your hair dramatically as you both burst out into giggles.

Now, Logan? Logan, Logan, Logan.. how did you approach this one? Well he was a little intimidated by you, you were so bubbly, loud and creative that he just couldn’t get over how overwhelming you are.

“Logan!” You said, hugging him it was early morning and you had gotten to school early, you didn’t take the bus. You saw Logan just standing off to the side awkwardly. At first he was always put off by your affectionate nature, also how nice you were.

“(Name)?” He said, slightly hugging you back. He had seemed to have gotten used to it. It were times like now that he appreciated your personality. Ben came up beside you two and waved, you and Logan had already stopped hugging as you waved at Ben.

Ben was sweet, really sweet. When you had met Ben you were a little put off. He was kind of awkward around you, but he was also really nice to you. He never spoke, unlike you, but you seemed to get used to it just like Logan got used to you. One day you both were in the realm and you had beaten the shit out of some globs, as you like to call them. You had scrapped your ankle when you all had booked it t safety.

“Thanks Ben.” You whispered to him, while everyone conversed. He had wrapped your ankle neatly for you, you couldn’t help but smile at his generosity. He looked at you before nodding and turning his attention back to the group. He was really just shy, or was he?

Tyler was a special case. I don’t think he’d ever get used to how peppy you are. Your kind of like Aiden, it annoys him to think that.

“Tylerrrr!” You said, trying to get his attention by poking him. You guys were at lunch, you were sitting at the table together and today you had sat next to him. He had to breath in before giving you a look.

“What?” He said before looking back at his plate.

“Are you gonna eat that?“ you said, looking at his extra soda he got from the vending machine. He looked at it, he was gonna save it for his next couple classes but.. he handed it to you, without even thinking. Why didn’t he think? He just gave it to you? You took it great fully, that’s where your guys mural friendship started.

You still scare them sometimes, everyone gets scared by how reckless you are, going into battle without a second thought is dangerous. You somehow NEVER get hurt other then the ankle thing. It literally shocks them.

One time you fell out of a tree you and Aiden were messing around in and you landed on Ashlyn perfectly. You could’ve gotten hurt but you somehow landed on her in the perfect position.. how the freaky deeky?

Another extremely lucky moment was when you guys were on top of a large building and you fell off only to land on one of the window sills, somehow? Taylor had to find that window and pull you through it.

Another time you were fighting a phantom and you jumped off of a fucking refrigerator and landed your feet hit directly on top of its head as it was WALKING PAST so it was still moving!

They have never seen someone so damn lucky.

“Do you have something that makes you so lucky?” Taylor asks and suddenly everyone else started asking too.

“Yeah, even Aiden isn’t that lucky.” Ashlyn barged into the conversation.

“She’s just stupid.” Tyler says and Logan silently laughs. Ben. Sighs at the insult before you pipe up.

“I guess you could call me lucky man!” You’d say, like you’ve discovered a new species.

“Your a female.” Aiden correct.

—

That’s all I have, sorry I’m lazy and tired tday lol

#aiden clark #school bus graveyard #tyler sbg #ashlyn banner #taylor sbg #taylor hernandez #tyler hernandez #sbg x reader #school

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